Rhapsody in Blue
by Conan Fleming
Summary: She was once one of the most glamorous trains to thunder up and down the Atlantic Coast. But as time went on, her trains dried up and her family was gone. There was nowhere else left to go than the very end. This is the Tragedy of the Blue Comet. Rated T for Dramatic Elements and Slight Language
1. Sunset and Dawn

Chapter 1 - Sunset and Dawn

_Luria Brothers Yard, Modena, PA, 1954_

A slow wind blew through the tiny borough of Modena, casting a grey blanket of clouds overhead and blotting out the sun's light. The grasses by the yard ebbed and flowed like an ocean's wave, evoking memories of the shining North Atlantic coast that were once her stomping ground. The wind picked up, howling softly but eerily between the long lines of engines. These beasts, once proud and shining, stood now as testaments to their demotion, blackened and rusting from being out in the weather for so long.

A loud rumble suddenly broke the quiet, drawing her eyes to the mainline. A bright orange-blue F3 set rushed past the yard, hauling a hotshot freight right past her. She could have sworn it was taunting the dead and dying steam locomotives, but she didn't care. She had no more tears to shed as she was just so close to death. She looked forward again as a loud hiss of acetylene sounded, followed by the cutting of a circular saw against metal. The harsh grinding forced her to retract, wishing she could cover her ears as the unknown engine in front of her was torn apart, piece by piece.

Where did it all go so wrong, she thought to herself, closing her eyes as she retreated into her mind. She desperately tried to remember, she was only 26 so she thought she could remember something. Then, it came to her: her brother's chilling screams as he was the first to be broken up, then more Pacifics coming in only to be unceremoniously whittled down to the chassis. She held her breath and, for the first time, prayed that she couldn't be killed.

The Blue Comet could not end this way.

/o=oOOO o - o o o o

_Baldwin Locomotive Works, Philadelphia, 1928_

There she was, standing outside the massive building where she had been inside mere minutes before. With a flourish, her eyes opened for the first time and quickly darted around the unfamiliar location. The works were bustling with activity, with little shop switchers pulling bigger and smaller locomotives in and out of the facility. The loud barks of exhaust, the howl of whistles, all filled her hearing as the big blue pacific rolled slowly forward into the bright noontime sunlight.

Or rather, she was shoved out quickly towards a spare line, with a little 0-6-0 switcher pushing her out. "Come on, 832!" the little engine called in a gruff voice, "We gotta clear you off the line so we can get these next engines out!" 832 squeaked in agreement and soon came to a slow stop next to an identical blue Pacific standing on her right. A worker came in and quickly applied some chocks to her wheels so 832 wouldn't roll away, a sight she found rather curious.

"What's… it doing?" She wondered.

"Heh, that "it" is a person, sister!" The pacific to her right chuckled, giving her a warm look, "I suppose you're still learning about yourself around here."

"Well… yes." 832 squeaked quietly, her whole mind still adjusting to the many sights and sounds around her, "Where am I?"

"Only the best place on Earth!" 831 grinned, showing a clear Jersey accent. "Baldwin Locomotive Woiks, our birthplace!" 832 frowned in confusion, suddenly gasping as she felt something suddenly fill her firebox.

"Ah! What's that!?" she cried, looking quite scared.

"Ah, they're just fillin' ya with coal and firing you up!" 831 laughed, having a workman dry the tears from his eyes, "Nothin' to to worry about!"

An hour or so later, the sun was just setting as both engines relaxed in their siding. They watched the many other trains trains go by, their fires already roaring in their oversized Wootton fireboxes. 832 glanced over at her supposedly-older brother and noticed the sign sitting on a strange object strapped to his forehead.

"What's that?" She asked innocently, causing 831 to look over.

"Oh, that?" He replied, looking up, "It's our feedwater heater, helps warm the water before it goes in our boilers, and that sign's for "The Blue Comet", a train we were built to pull."

"'Blue Comet'? Wow…" 832 whispered in awe. A train I was built for, she thought, that sounds amazing!

Suddenly, both engines were broken from their revelry by an important looking thin man in a business suit. escorting four overall-cladded men over to them.

"Greetings, engines!" the important man said, "I am one of the directors of the Central Railroad of New Jersey and would like to extend a warm welcome to you both!"

"Nice to meet you sir", the two engines chimed in, 832 assuming that "engine" referred to herself.

"I'm here to introduce you to your crew," the director continued, "And I hope they can make you feel right at home for your trial runs. 831, your crew are George Robinson and James Plunkett." Two men waved from behind the Director and walked over to their locomotive.

"As for you, 832" the Director continued, facing her, "This is John Vary Walt and Mr. Conan Cinque, your driver and fireman."

"Oh, why thank you sir!" 832 smiled, looking at her crew for the first time. John Walt was a portly man in his early 40s, a cap covering what seemed to be a balding head and, all around, he looked a very warm and kind individual. Conan Cinque, meanwhile, was just freshly 20, a fireman in training with experience only in freight locomotives. As Conan brushed his heavy bangs out of his face, he couldn't help but notice the beautiful blue engine in front of him.

"Golly gee…" he whispered to John, "She's a real beaut!"

"Well you better get on up there and feed her!" John chuckled, heading for the cab, "Way to a girl's heart's through her stomach!" Conan nodded and quickly followed John, shoveling coal into 832's firebox and letting the engine's fire roar.

A deep-toned blast of the whistle echoed through the air as 831 emitted heavy smoke and steam, grey-white steam billowing into the air as the mighty G3 Pacific rolled out of the Baldwin yard on his own. 832 watched in awe as he switched onto her own line… only to suddenly stop.

"Hey George, you ain't double-headin' this one, aintcha?!" John cried out from the cab, setting 832's brakes off with a loud hiss.

"Sure am!" George yelled back from 831's cab, "That way we don't worry about losin' anyone!"

"Come on, Communipaw's just an hou-alright!" John sighed as George brushed him off and pushed 832's reverser forward. 832 shivered, she was now ready to go! Her fire roared deep in her big belly as Conan filled around the edges of her grate. Her cylinders hissed and blasted hot, wet steam into the ground as John opened up her drains. If she could drive herself, 832 thought, she could run forever into the unknown wilderness.

A brakeman suddenly came over between 832 and 831's tender, checking the brake hoses and opening up the couplers for both engines. Using gestures that 832 found odd, John nodded again and opening up her throttle to a loud hissing noise. 832 gasped lightly, feeling herself moving forward slowly, inch by inch, until with a jerk she was coupled up to 831.

"Havin' a good time back there!?" 831 chuckled as the brakeman checked their hoses.

"Y-yeah!" 832 replied in her most energetic voice.

"We got the green, let's hit it!" George yelled, and with two loud toots of their deep chime whistles, the new Comets rolled away from the plant and headed for their new home: Jersey City.


	2. What's in a Name?

Chapter 2: What's In a Name

_Communipaw Engine Terminal, Jersey City, New Jersey, 1928_

The two engines made it to Jersey City quickly by nightfall, ending up at a large engine yard and roundhouse. The yard lights were as bright as the stars above and some engines were casually chatting in the sheds until the two Comets came in, prompting their attention towards them. 831 decoupled from 832 and chugged slowly onto the turntable, eliciting a whistle.

"Ooh, child!" A female 0-8-0 switcher called out in a Southern accent as 831 turned around, "Ain't that the sexiest thing ah evah seen!"

"You're blind!" A 2-8-0 responded in a gruff voice, watching 831 back into a berth and 832 puff onto the table after it set for her, "That second one's clearly the bee's knees!" 832 blushed as she turned around and backed up next to 831 as his crew were getting him ready for sleep. On 832's left sat a Pacific much like the two of them. The engined seemed older to them, and lacked their feedwater heater.

"So, you're the new engines, I suppose?" He asked in a rather posh accent.

"Yeah we are!" 831 laughed, interrupting 832 as she was about to speak, "New ones for the Blue Comet next year, though one of us still isn't finished." 832 merely squeaked in agreement.

"Well it's nice to meet you both" the older Pacific replied kindly as 832 watched Conan and John wiped her down for the evening, "My name's Cornell, number 820. I don't suppose you two have names yet?"

"Well… no." They both replied, with 832 asking, "What's a name?"

"Ah, these young engines" Cornell chuckled, "A name's something you call yourself, like how I call myself 'Cornell' and how those two," he gestured with his eyes to the 0-8-0 and 2-8-0 silently watching them, "are Eva and Erik. I'd hasten to say a name should reflect how you see yourself, or at least describe what you are."

The two G3s frowned and pondered on what Cornell had said, while Eva and Erik left the shed to attend to some night duties. As the engines thought hard, their crew wished them a good night and headed out of the shed. 832 watched them walk away and thought that maybe they had their own sheds at home they could sleep in, but dismissed it as a silly idea before going back to thinking about a name. The hour rolled on into the night until the three Pacifics were the only ones awake.

"I honestly don't know…" 831 grumbled before closing his eyes, maybe it'll come to me in a dream.

"I hope so…" 832 sighed, giving a small smile, "I'd love a beautiful name."

"That's the spirit!" Cornell grinned before closing his own eyes, "Good night, little engines..."

"Good night…" They replied before falling fast asleep.

o o o o- o OOOo=o\

The next morning awoke 832 with a loud metallic bang coming from the mainline. As she opened her eyes, she saw the sun barely rising up into the sky, casting elongated shadows across the ground as it bathed the cityscape in warm orange light. The banging noise came from Eva, who was shunting a bunch of dark green commuter coaches into Communipaw Terminal, and was sounding rather irate about it too.

"Lousy yard manageah…" Eva muttered to herself, hoping her crew wouldn't hear, "Sayin' ah gotta wake up in the early mornin' and that damn Erik can sleep in…" The 0-8-0 came to a stop once a station guard flagged her down and the coaches came to a soft stop against the bumper. A brakeman uncoupled Eva from the train and rode her front back to the yard, the switcher still grumbling to herself.

Meanwhile, Conan had arrived at the sheds, looking like he hadn't got much sleep either as his unruly mop of hair decided to stick in one big, messy pile atop his tanned head. 832 looked over and saw him, and couldn't help but giggle.

"Good morning, Conan!" She purred happily, overjoyed to see a familiar face.

"Morning, eight-thirtytwo" Conan smiled back, climbing into her cab, "John's gonna be late here today, so he asked me to fire you up first."

"Oh, will it hurt?" 832 asked innocently.

"Not at all." Conan replied, shoveling a large pile of coal into her firebox and setting it up with a poker. Afterwards, Conan grabbed the day's New York Times and wadded it up, flicking on his cigarette lighter and tossing the burning paper into the belly of 832. Both the big engine and her fireman relaxed as 831 kept on sleeping soundly. Not even fifteen minutes later, John finally arrived, appearing quite out of breath as he walked into the shed. The portly man slowly staggered up to 832's pilot and held onto her cutbar, leaving the big Pacific a bit confused.

"Something wrong, John?" 832 asked softly.

John looked up, seeing 832 looking worried at him, and brushed it off with a grin. "Ah, it's nothin!" He said, patting her pilot before walking to her cab, "Just the missus and I had a bit of a row this morning.."

"Why, wife said you're eating her out of house and home?" Conan smirked, laughing at his own joke until John smacked him upside the head.

"No, not even" John grunted, taking his seat at the right of 832's cab, "Rather not discuss it currently." Conan and 832 agreed not to pester John any further and waited for 832's pressure to build.

An hour later, the sun was already high in the brilliantly-blue sky, which 832 loved to watch. It's so beautiful, she thought to herself, I'm glad I'm painted like that. Conan checked her gauges again and gave a thumbs up to John, who patted 832's cabside.

"Alright girl", John said warmly, "Director says you'll be taken on trial today to test the route out, you ready for it?"

If 832 was human, she would have paled. "A-a-a trial?"

"Oh, it's nothin' special!" Conan said, shoveling some more coal into her firebox, "Just a test passenger service to see if you know the route for the new train next year!" 832 gulped as she nervously tip-toed onto the turntable. 'No big deal?!' She thought to herself as she turned onto the exit track, 'It's my first train!'

832 pushed forward off the table and onto the track connecting the mainline. As she looked on ahead, she found trains already rushing in and out of the station to get early-morning commuters to their destinations. A black Reading Pacific, looking much like her but with smart skirting, rushed briskly past, hauling a line of dark green coaches and intimidating 832 slightly.

With a clatter of points, the G3 cautiously backed down onto the long train. Ten coaches had been set up from spare commuter cars and was to serve as a test scheduled train to see if it could fit on the service. 832 couldn't help but see important men climbing into her coaches, all dressed in business suits and that intimidated her even more. John seemed to sense this as he found her regulator a little hard to pull and gently patted her cabside again.

"Come on 832" John comforted her, "We'll be here every step of the way. If something happens, it's our fault, not yours."

832 sighed, trying to relax, "Ok John, I think I can do this."

"Splendid!" John grinned and waited for the off as 832 steadied herself mentally. She was the new pride of the line, a shining sky-blue Pacific and top of the line too! There was no way she could blow this at all! She could do it!

"Yes, I can do this!" 832 yelled, only to find her crew, some waiting passengers, and a few locomotives staring at her as if she'd just yelled for a fire. She tried to brush it off with a giggle but blushed heavily instead, shutting her eyes as John and Conan shrugged and resumed waiting for their departure time. "I gotta learn some self-control, whatever that is…" 832 muttered to herself.


	3. A Symphony of Steel and Sea

Chapter 3: A Symphony of Steel and Sea

Around 10:13AM, the sun was already high and bright over Communipaw Terminal. 832 and her crew were just waiting for the conductor's call to go. Inside the coaches, the men in important business suits discussed the feasibility of this new service and were yet to be impressed at their new Pacific's performance. Suddenly, from the end of the train, a voice called out: "ALL ABOOOOOAAAAARD!"

"That's our cue!" John called, throwing some sand onto the rails and pulling 832's throttle back. Conan immediately began shoveling coal into the hungry fire, keeping 832 fed as her six giant wheels gripped the rails instantly and started forward. Smoke and steam billowed around the blue locomotive as she left the shady cover of Communipaw and emerged into the warm sunlight. The train, with ten coaches, was still a bit heavy for her, so 832 found herself slipping once or twice as she got up to speed.

"I can do it, I can do it…!" 832 said to herself, gathering up all the horsepower she had as John steadied her throttle, ensuring a comfortable ride. Form the sheds, 831 had just woken up and was being prepped by his crew when he saw 832 heading away from the terminal with the test train. A look of shock and confusion was on his face.

"Wait, I thought I was supposed to be pulling that!" He yelled, causing his crew to shield their ears.

"Because we woke up too late!" James chuckled, helping George prep the cab, "So dispatch gave it to your sister." 831 grumped at this news and resumed sitting in the shed, watching as the last coach left the yard with a silent click-clack.

o o o o * o o o o * o o o o- o OOOo=o\

832 sighed in relief as she rolled through the city now greeting her as she left Communipaw. The cityscape, to her, was entirely alien. Brick-and-mortar buildings towered around her, enveloping the small-by-comparison locomotive in shadow as they seemed to tease the sky. Coupled with the sounds of the busy city over her own loud exhaust, it all seemed to form a perfect symphony in her smokebox. As 832 enjoyed herself quietly, John shut off her steam and applied her brakes, coming into their first stop at Elizabethtown. There, daily commuters caught their first glimpse of the new locomotive as she pulled to a stop, and 832 quickly blushed from all the new attention she was getting.

The train left Elizabethtown two minutes later to the sound of the conductor's call, and 832 was allowed to stretch her wheels as they sped their way towards Red Bank. All the while, Conan happily kept the big engine fed, whistling a Gershwin tune as John kept her speed up. 832 soon came bearing down on Matawan and there she saw it: The beautiful, sparkling Atlantic ocean. The world seemed to slow down for her, her own dark brown eyes taking in the breathtaking sight of the big blue ocean and the wide, infinite horizon.

"Oh my…" She whispered, though John and Conan easily heard her.

"What's got you tongue-tied?" Conan grinned, taking his seat and combing the coal dust out of his moptop.

"Just… what is that?" 832 asked, causing Conan to look over while John kept an eye out on the tracks.

"Oh, that's the ocean!" the young man replied back, stowing his comb, "I heard from some of the locomotive crew they painted your type blue because of the Atlantic."

"It looks like it'd be a nice thing to name me after" 832 mused, thinking back to her conversation with Cornell. As the line veered off the coast, a sharp spray of water lapped up against the shore, turning the blue water to a bright, energetic white. The big blue engine suddenly had an epiphany.

"I got it!" She screamed, a bit too loudly though as John and Conan were suddenly startled.

"What!?" They both gasped in shock.

"I'll name myself "Bianca", after the ocean spray!" 832 grinned, hoping her idea sounded good.

A few minutes of silence and deep thought followed her outburst as the train came to a slow stop at Red Bank. There, two double-heading Mikados thundered by with a long train of boxcars, causing Bianca to shield her eyes from the dirty equipment. After the freight train had passed, Bianca got the train started again and the test train was now speeding south, paralleling the ocean.

"I think Bianca's a nice name" John said, finally breaking the silence, "I've a sister in Lakehurst named Bianca."

"I agree, Bianca is a lovely name for a lovely engine" Conan purred, playing up his gentlemanly charm (or as John called it, his "foolishness").

"Yes!" Bianca cheered, blowing her whistle as they passed an unprotected crossing, "Bianca I shall be then!"

As the train sped on, the rest of the journey seemed to pass rather quickly as cities grew into small towns and small towns grew into cities again once Bianca reached Atlantic City around 1PM, just a couple minutes shy of their arrival time. There, Bianca came across an odd-shaped locomotive parked a platform across from her and, as the businessmen and her crew disembarked for a meeting.

Bianca couldn't help but stare at the odd engine in curiosity. The engine was a 4-4-2 Atlantic type, with a large firebox much, if not, exactly like hers, and looked perfectly commonplace, if not for the fact its cab was midway along the boiler! The locomotive bore the number 592 and was dressed in a stately turn-of-the-century black, which intrigued Bianca even more as the young Pacific kept on staring. Unknowingly, she was beginning to test 592's patience.

"Can I help you?" The Atlantic finally asked, backing up a bit to see Bianca better.

"I… err... " Bianca stammered, wishing she could just shrink down right now to the size of a saddle-tank and scurry away, "I'm sorry, I couldn't help noticing your…"

"Oh, this?" 592 smirked, showing off her middle cab, "Hun, I'm not as big as you but I got the same firebox you do. This is just for accommodations!"

"Accommodations?" Bianca raised her eyebrows, now genuinely curious.

"Oh sure, my crew does need protection" 592 replied, her voice a clear Tidewater accent that explained her passenger heritage, "Though it does get hilarious sometimes when my engineer and fireman can't talk to each other."

"Because they're so far away?" the Blue Comet inquired.

"Definitely!" The Atlantic grinned, "By the way, my name's Ingrid and if you're wondering what I'm called, I'm usually known as a Camelback due to these air-tanks atop my firebox."

"Oh, well nice to meet you Ingrid!" Bianca grinned, getting her energy up again, "I'm Bianca, one of the Blue Comet engines!"

"Oh yes, I did hear about your type from Cornell" Ingrid replied, her tone switching from chipper to more serious, "You're the type's that's gonna be replacing mine soon…"

"I… what?" Bianca lost her smile, looking at Ingrid confusedly, "I never meant to replace you or anything, I barely even met you."

"Oh, nevermind." Ingrid sighed, backing out of the station with her own coaches, "You'll know soon enough…"

Bianca was left standing in Atlantic City as many people came over to admire her beautiful profile, but inside she felt conflicted. What DID Ingrid mean by her "replacing" the Camelback? She didn't have time to talk about it though, as her crew finally returned and the test train headed back up to Jersey City. All the while, Bianca remained quiet in deep thought, seeming to not enjoy the beautiful North Atlantic coast anymore. She needed some answers to this, and Bianca knew just who to ask.


End file.
